


She-Wolves Need Claws

by vlaurie17



Series: She-Wolves [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Coda, Episode: s08e01 Winterfell, F/M, Gen, Political Jon Snow, Sansa Stark is Queen in the North, Sibling Love, Sister-Sister Relationship, the pack survives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-15 17:23:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18503587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vlaurie17/pseuds/vlaurie17
Summary: "Arya knew Gendry understood what this war meant. There may be no survivors left. No fighting men or women to defend her lady sister. And Arya would be damned if she left Sansa defenseless in Winterfell if the dead came knocking down her door.."----Arya asks Gendry to craft a weapon for herself, as well as one for Sansa.





	She-Wolves Need Claws

“Here’s my wish.” Arya offered him the little scroll in her dark gloved hand, “Can you make it?”

 

Gendry studied the design for the multipurpose dragon glass weapon quickly, handing it back to her, “What do you need something like this for?” he wondered aloud. 

 

Arya, of course, ignored the question, “Can you make it or not?” She tilted her head in slight challenge.

 

“You already have a sword,” he pointed out, “What’s that?” 

 

Arya humored him by handing him her dagger. Even in the dimly lit room, it shone impressively.

 

“Valyrian steel,” he admired, then teased “I always knew you were just another rich girl.” 

 

Arya teased back easily, “You don’t know any other rich girls.” They shared smirks and their eyes both twinkled. 

 

Arya thought about how he told her she looked good when she walked in. He did too, she thought. Even without his dark locks, covered in sweat and grime, his face filled some hole in her heart she hadn’t had time to examine. 

 

She’d changed so much since leaving Winterfell all those years ago, especially after all her time in Braavos learning to become  _ noone _ . But standing there in the hot Winterfell forge teasing Gendry, she felt more like Arya Stark than she had in years. 

 

She was a killer, the legacy of a great house. He was a royal bastard, a fugitive.

 

But in that moment they were just a boy and a girl, happy to both be alive, and for that moment at least, together. 

 

She broke eye contact first, “I actually have a second request as well.”

 

Gendry raised his eyebrows beneath the soot, “Milady’s quite demanding, isn’t she?”

 

Arya fake sighed at the title turned nickname. “I may not be a proper lady, but my sister is, and that’s who I need this for.”

 

She hesitated, and he waited for her to elaborate. 

 

“I don’t have a design made for this because I’m entrusting it to you, since you’re the best. I don’t trust anyone else to create a weapon for Sansa to keep her safe.”

He nodded solemnly to let her know he took her trust and the assigned duty seriously. He didn’t need to question why the Lady of Winterfell should need a weapon even with her sworn sword and an army of loyal Northerners. 

 

Arya knew that he understood what this war meant. There may be no survivors left. No fighting men or women to defend her lady sister. And Arya would be damned if she left Sansa defenseless in Winterfell if the dead came knocking down her door. 

 

Sansa may not know how to fight with a sword, but she knew how to survive. Arya knew her sister was a she-wolf like her, and like her, Arya knew Sansa would never go down without a fight. 

 

Arya smirked in her head as she recalled a breakfast conversation between Sansa and Jon where he’d offhandedly suggested she and Bran flee somewhere farther south away from the wall for the duration of the war.

 

Sansa had tore him a new one. 

 

Arya knew the Lady of Winterfell would never leave her post, her people. Sansa was a true leader. She’d always been a Lady, but now she acted like a true queen. Arya was proud of her sister. And she was disappointed in Jon for not seeing her full potential. 

 

He was so focused on appeasing his Southern Queen, he was beginning to neglect the Queen of the North. A title none of the northerners dared utter aloud for fear of becoming dragon food, but nonetheless, felt deep in their hearts.

 

Off course, Arya had quickly observed how deeply Jon seemed to care for Sansa despite his stoic political posturing.

 

He’d entrusted the North to her, but now he silently implored her to bend the knee like he had. He’d missed her greatly, but now he barely saw her, spending almost all of his free time kissing up to Daenerys Targaryen. He obviously respected Sansa’s capability and leadership, so why was he acting so scared for her safety all of a sudden?

 

And there was the second reason Arya had come to Gendry with her second request. 

 

Arya, seeping through the shadows, saw a lot of things others didn’t, as well as some things that were hard to miss such as the passive aggressive staredowns between her sister and the Dragon Queen. 

 

Sansa wrapped all of her words in honey, but Arya knew that Daenerys, as well as all the northerners, saw Sansa’s defiance and insubordination for what it truly was. And she knew The Mad King’s daughter was becoming seriously pissed.

 

Jon may want to get Sansa as far away from his impulsive queen as possible, but Arya knew it was a pointless venture. There must always be a Stark in Winterfell. Even if the end of the world as they knew it awaited them all on a battlefield filled with the dead.

 

So Arya promised herself she’d finally teach Sansa how to defend herself with a weapon besides her mind. Arya had meant what she’d said to Jon when she told him Sansa was the smartest person she knew. 

 

Nonetheless, she’d craft her the perfect weapon to channel her inner strength into something tangible should the need arise. 

 

“Nothing but the best for my sister,” she ordered, challenge back in her gaze.

 

“Of course milady,” Gendry bowed slightly, smile on his lips, but a promise in his eyes.

 

Whether Sansa should need to defend herself from a blue eyed wight or a blue eyed queen, Arya was going to make sure she was prepared. 

 

Here they were, the last she-wolves in Winterfell, once again surrounded by southerners and foreigners on all sides. But unlike their time in King’s Landing, Arya and Sansa were on the same page this time. 

 

And now that they were a pack again, there would be no stopping them.

 

Arya smiled at the thought and at Gendry, who was left fumbling in the forge as she twirled away with mischief and determination in her eye.


End file.
